He stopped her words with another rough kiss while his fingers undid the buttons at the top of her chemise. Cool air washed over her chest, and then he was pushing the soft cloth down, beneath her breasts, lifting them so that they were supported by the bunched fabric.
Instinctively she arched up, offering herself to him. She wanted him to touch her breasts, and more, but she didn’t know how to say the words.
She didn’t have to. His hands found her, caressed her, molded to her shape. The sensation was indescribable. Her nipples hardened into aching peaks.
A groan rumbled from his throat. He sought her mouth again, urging her lips apart and meeting her tongue with his. He cupped her breasts on either side. He tested their weight in his hands and stroked her nipples with his fingertips.
“Braden,” she sighed. It was already more than she’d ever imagined, but it wasn’t enough.
As if he’d read her thoughts, he bent over her and took her nipple in his mouth.
She gasped and clutched at the back of his shirt. She hadn’t known that her breasts were so gloriously sensitive. He used his tongue and lips in ways that made her cry out in joy. Each time she did, he held her tighter and stroked her with greater urgency, as if the sounds she made excited him.
Reaching up, she tried to kiss his chest above the open collar, to return some of the pleasure he’d given her. But he pushed her back, gently but firmly, and gathered the hem other skirts in his hands. His fingers slid beneath, up to the edge other drawers, and then ran down the length of her calf. Her entire body hummed with each caress. Her drawers were becoming damp, drawing all sensation to the part other that ached most. The drawers were made to be open in that very place.
If he were to touch her there…
But he withdrew and took her hand in his. She watched his expression as he guided her hand to the top of his thighs. He was very hard there, and she remembered how he’d looked when she first saw him naked.
“Like bulls and stallions,” Isabelle said. But Cassidy had thought Braden far more beautiful. She made a cup of her hand and pressed it to him.
This time he was the one to gasp. His eyes were closed, and she knew she gave him pleasure. She moved her fingers gently, tracing the firm length under the fabric of his trousers.
He grabbed her wrist. “This is what happens when a man wants a woman,” he said raggedly.
“Does that mean that… when Quentin kissed me, and you came to find us—you wanted me then?”
His laugh was little more than a growl. “Do you understand what happens when a man and woman lie together?”
“I… lived on a ranch,” she said awkwardly. She didn’t dare tell him what Isabelle had tried to explain. And so much had been left unsaid. “I want to do it, Braden.”
It didn’t take long for her to discover the fastenings of his trousers, but she didn’t get the chance to undo them. Braden was too quick. Her fingers grazed warm, smooth flesh, and then he bore her back onto the bed with his body. She felt the full impact of his size and strength as he braced himself over her and kissed her. He started with her lips, and then moved to her chin, her cheeks, her forehead, her ears. His lips and tongue worked magic in the hollow of her throat and the sensitive place where her neck and shoulders joined.
At last he returned to her breasts, tasting and suckling, drawing a response from deep in her belly. He drew her skirts above her waist and parted the open inner edges of her drawers.
The air was very cool where she was most warm and damp. She felt completely exposed, more naked than if he’d removed her gown and shoes and stockings. His fingers brushed the insides of her thighs, low at first, then higher. Nearer to the place where all her need was centered.